Whenever I want to talk to one of my friends on the phone, I text him. Because he doesn’t usually text back, he calls.
I don’t call him because he is on the phone a lot due to his job, so he can’t always talk when I call. So simply by texting, I get him to call back, when he can, which oddly enough, is right away.
As for me, I don’t pick up the phone most of the time – especially with business.
Years ago, my accountant, well, my father, asked me why business was down so much in the last quarter, and I told him probably because I took the business phone number off the website. And he said, in a half joking way, “Well, you better put it back on.” And I did, but for the past few years I haven’t.
When people call, which is few and far between since today most people email or text, the messages asks the to email us, and they do.
I know it’s maybe a Millennial thing, where they cringe at the sound of a phone ringing. But I do the same. There’s something new with cell phones now where even if you don’t have the person’s or company’s phone number in your phone, it will tell you who it is, many time by the person’s name, not just the company. So that’s a big help.
I can remember when Caller ID came out. That was a big thing. It was a small electronic thing you attached to the phone (which was still on a wire back then). And then you could avoid most calls. Although we didn’t text or email back then, so we picked up anyway, no matter who called. We had to.
Western Electric Telstar Phone
At one point I had a hot dog cooker type phone, I don’t know how else to describe it. It took me forever to find this image online – I didn’t know how to describe it. But here it is – it’s called the Western Electric Telstar Phone. You had to roll back the cover every time you wanted to use it, but that was part of the charm/coolness. I had it for years.
Now we have smartass phones. Wonder what’s next. Probably telepathy.
I don’t know how you read this blog, whether it’s online or via email subscription, but if you see it online, you may notice a different look.
Me in my new tee
I was changing some things around and screwed up and ended with what you see. Basically the same thing, but a little cleaner, I guess.
It’s the same with the 10 With Tom site. That was unintentionally cleaned up a bit too. What happened was, I was trying to clean up one blog and the I had the other one online instead, so in the end, they both got the “clean-up” treatment while I was experimenting.
No big deal, it’s the content that counts.
I have some new 10 With tom and Tomversation shirts. I wore one around town yesterday, trying to drum up readers. I actually wore the darker one, which I like better. You can see them here.
I’m looking forward to wearing them on the subway in NYC in a couple of weeks. And probably at NY Comic Con, too, but it’s such a cacophony of people there and so many cosplayers, that I don’t think I’ll be noticed. I’m looking forward to that yearly event.
Speaking of 10 With Tom, I’m working on new interviews. My recent one was last week with Elizabeth and Jonathan who produce the War and Peas comic strip, I’m sure you’ve seen that comic. You can see the 10 With Tom interview here: 10withtom.substack.com/p/meet-elizabeth-and-jonathan-of-war .
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For 15 years, I edited and published the local news in the village where I live. It was hard work, but I enjoyed it. I was the only source of news and information around here. People depended on it and read it daily. But after many years, I gave it up. I had to, I just burned out.
To this day, almost daily, people ask me when I’m coming back. It is sorely missed. It really was the voice of the village and everything that was happening was published. My stories were republished in the Miami Herald and the Huffington Post. I was interviewed by others about local issues.
I won awards over the years and I was given a great honor at the end of my run – the City of Miami made February 14 “Tom Falco Day.” All this is not to blow my own horn, it’s just to set up the next part of the story.
Well, a new publication started up a few years ago, I helped them start it by giving advice and explaining the ins and outs of publishing the news. I was all for it, as we needed a local news source. The publication has changed hands and I noticed they have a section called “Village People.” It’s where they talk about locals and what they are up to, etc. At the end of the article, they ask for submissions and provide an email address.
Well, since I started my new 10 With Tom blog (an extension of this blog) at Substack, I thought it would be a good opportunity to pick up some of my old subscribers. Also, people keep asking me what I am up to, so I figured it would be an interesting read.
I sent in a press release, not long, but informative and guess what? I was turned down. By someone I know! A guy who I know well is the new co-editor of the publication. And to add insult to injury, he asked if I would like to write for them – after turning my press release down! The irony of it all.
I told him, “I am writing for you. I just sent you a story. Publish it.”
He refused. He said it’s not what they are looking for. He said this, “We do not print submitted articles. The [last Village People profile] article is different from what you’ve proposed in that we (the editors) came up with the idea and we assigned (and paid) a writer to do it. We are always looking for talented writers to add to our stable but only for producing assigned content.” And in another email, he asked if I would be interested in writing for them.
Crickets.
Assigned content? Talk about a total idiot without a clue. If he was a news person, an editor, he would grasp at all news/articles that came in. That’s how news organizations work. They accept news tips, press releases and stories – newspapers, magazines, tv stations, especially online publications – that’s how it is done.
He might not publish them as-is, but he would get a story out of it some way. He would re-write it, he would call the person and do a fresh story, he would make something out of it. He would realize that unsolicited news coming into the office is where most news comes from. You take the news that is given to you and make it something. One one hand this moron is asking me to write for them, and on the other he says they don’t print submitted articles that I have written for them.
We live in a small village. Everything is a story. Joe Schmo painted a new portrait, that’s a story. Wilma opened a new bagel store, that’s a story. Ed bought a vintage house – that’s a story.
I published everything – I wanted everyone to be heard in the village. I published articles on subjects this guy was interested in. He would contact me and discuss issues and ask me to cover the event or the subject. And I did. Now I asked him and was told, “no.”
The one thing I would not post was lost animal notices. That would have turned into a 24/7 non-stop thing if I did that. One guy on the Village Council called me a prick once because I would not post his girlfriend’s lost cat. Ironically, I personally had to hand this guy an award a week later for winning “best car” in a classic car contest. Yes, I also covered the contest and his winning the award as news, pictures and all.
I’ve been publishing my work on Substack, since it seems like it’s the thing to do. I publish cartoons and my blog posts there and I also started publishing my 10 With Tom column there.
My 10 With Tom is now at Substack at substack.com/@10withtom . It started out at the Huffington Post some years back. I interviewed celebs and news people, athletes, all sorts of people you may know. I moved it to my own url at 10WithTom.com and now at Substack.
I interview people in 10 random questions. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker and yes, a slew of folks you probably know. While I mainly covered famous people and celebs, I want to go back to my original purpose – interview people coming up in the world – everyday people. Everyone has a story, that’s what I would like to include in the publication – a new guitarist, a new author or artist; a teacher, the mailman!
I’m still working my way around Substack, but it’s a blogging, publishing platform, where you can make money from having people subscribe to your work, although at this point, everything I publish is free, even to subscribers.
There is a section called “Notes” which is sort of like Twitter/X, and there are long-form stories and published pieces. Many well-known people publish on Substack and they have thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of followers. It seems like every regular contributor on these cable news shows, now has their own writing space on Substack.
I mostly follow other cartoonists and artists. I like that community. I am all in with this project, I even have a t-shirt, which is for sale on the site (and here).
Substack is slow going at first, but that is to be expected until the algorithm notices you. But I have noticed famous people get lots of subscribers right away. Sort of like the rich getting richer. This one guy made believe he was Keanu Reeves, he didn’t post anything other than introducing himself, and he got so many followers just for that reason. And therein lies the rub . . . .
Hope to see you at my new Substack for 10 With Tom, hopefully you’ll subscribe, which is free, and every time I post a new interview, you’ll receive it via email.
I walked out of the doctor’s office yesterday and I don’t think they even know yet. I was in the waiting room for over two hours, almost three in fact. My appointment was over two hours before and as usual, they just had me sit in a crowded waiting room.
I hadn’t been for a couple of years, so I made an appointment to basically show my face. I would get my cholesterol checked, deal with the rude doctor, and swear to myself to never go back again. Well this time, I left for good.
This office makes appointments and when you show up, the tiny waiting room is full. Does everybody have an 11 am appointment? There is only one doctor, it’s not a large practice other doctors there. It’s the one guy. It almost reminds me of Doc Martin, where it seems like it’s first come, first serve. But if I lived in Portwenn, I don’t think I would mind having Doc Martin as my doctor, or Portwenn as my home.
My doctor’s waiting room looks like the free clinic. It has wall-to-wall people, taking up all the seats. Most speak on their phones very loudly, telling the person on the other end and the rest of us who overhear it all about their ailments and why they are at the doctor. Others have their phones ringing every two seconds, luckily they don’t answer, but they are too stupid to turn the ringer off. So it rings and rings. And others just chat with others across the room. All strangers, but still chatting away very loudly. This all takes place in Spanish, which I understand, so they sometimes include me in the conversations and I reply as to be polite.
The worst are those sitting listening to videos with the sound turned up, they never heard of earbuds I guess.
The doctor himself is rude and condescending. Not rude and condescending like Doc Martin. Worse. I remember during the pandemic, I put on a few pounds. By a few, I mean maybe 10 pounds on a muscular 186 lb. man’s frame. I don’t think that is a lot of weight to put on for my build. He would tell me in his calm, sickeningly sweet voice, “You have to push yourself away from the table.” And one time, he kept saying, “Half. Half” I asked him what that meant, he said it means only eat half of what is on my plate. Which is funny because I am known for leaving most of my plate and not finishing it. A friend asked me once why I never finish my food. “Are you trying to be polite? He asked, as he grabbed across the table for my leftovers. I told him, “No, I stop eating when I feel full.”
Anyway, I took the weight off and am back to my usual routine.
By the way, it’s been 24 hours since I walked out and I still have not heard from the inept doctor’s office. They probably think I was seen by the doctor and then charged my insurance company. But most likely, it’s a numbers game. Pack in as many as possible and keep the ones who don’t walk out.
But in the end, I think I willed it, you know, manifested not being there. I didn’t want to go because of all of the above, and I think i just manifested not having to be there, so I left and no one noticed I was there to begin with. It never happened.
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I’ve been watching the Olympics occasionally, depending on when I catch it. I am feeling FOMO of not being in Paris, it looks like it’s the place to be this summer.
When I was a kid, I watched it all – from opening ceremony to closing ceremony. I knew every Olympians life story if it was reported on tv and I watched hours and hours of it. Of course we didn’t have 1000 tv channels back then, so since there weren’t many choices, I watched the main event for two weeks.
Ollie And Jacomo at the Olympics.
I did catch the men’s gymnastics and I stuck with it because one of the guys is the spitting image of one of my neighbors. He could be his brother. They look so much alike. I’ve seen still pictures of this Olympian online and he doesn’t look like my neighbor in still shots, but on tv, moving, he looks just like him.
I haven’t told my neighbor because I don’t know how he would take it, sometimes when people tell you that you look like someone it isn’t a compliment. My neighbor is much younger than me, more like a son, and I yelled at him one day, as a father would yell at a son, only he isn’t my son, and it caused bad feelings. He’s back talking to me, so I don’t want to be stupid by saying anything that might be stupid.
For years I’ve said things out loud that I think I am only thinking in my head. I’m not sure how or why that happens, but really, I think it and I think I am only thinking it, and I end up blurting it out.
I’ve been having fun with Ollie And Jacomo, setting them in Paris during the Olympic games. It’s given me lots of ideas and themes to work with.
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I wasn’t sure what tv show to use for this cartoon, but I ended up doing “The Office,” in hopes that people are familiar with it. I don’t see how you can’t be since it’s on almost 24 hours a day on some tv channels.
I thought of doing Seinfeld or I Love Lucy, Gilligan’s Island or some other well-known show, but The Office seemed to work.
I’ve been watching The Office constantly on Comedy Central and while I watched it on it’s initial run every Thursday night, I never realized what a jerk and creep Andy is. I always liked him, but as I watch the reruns now, I don’t see any redeeming qualities in him. I guess he was always been a jerk, on purpose. Dwight is a jerk, but he doesn’t know he’s a jerk; that’s the difference.
My sister-in-law has a few dogs, their names are Lucy, Ethel, Desi and I think Carolyn Appleby, not sure if there is a Fred, but I remember on one Lucy episode, they had a puppy named Fred on the show.
My parents used to have a next door neighbor whose dog’s name was Richard. I never saw the lady, but when I would visit, I would often here her calling Richard – “Richard! Richard!” I asked my mother if the lady was calling her husband, and my mother, with a straight face, said, “No, she’s calling her dog.” And the fact that I never saw the lady made it even funnier.
This was some years back. My parents also had good friends who lived across the street – the Earps, descendants of Wyatt Earp, but that’s another story.
We had dogs named Daisy, Hans, Ginger, etc. The usual names i guess.
This is one of my favorite pictures It was taken a few summers ago. That’s Molly and Me (that’s a movie, isn’t it?) on our way to the Hamptons in the back seat of the car. Molly was my aunt and uncle’s pet, they were in the front seat. I don’t remember if one of them took this picture or if I took it as selfie. Molly is no longer with us and neither is my aunt.
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Facebook made some group suggestions for me to follow. I’m not sure where Vintage Kitchens came from, I barely boil water. Cinema Treasures, maybe.
Not sure where Vintage Mobile Homes came from and Vintage Sewing Patterns. I don’t think I’ve ever sewn anything in my life, nor do I want to.
Historical Vault, yes, I would like that. Old, Seedy Motels? Maybe, every time I see an old abandoned motel I like to think of the history of it. I sometimes think about staying in one of those old seedy 1960s motels you see in the Florida Keys. They are quiet, feet from the Gulf and look interesting. Perfect for a writer or cartoonist to spend some time. But I never stop as I’m driving by on my way to Key West, and I never end up seeing what those motels are about.
This reminds me of some years back when Visa called me. They said someone was using my credit card and they needed to cancel it. I asked them how they knew it wasn’t me. They said one charge was for Avon. A few weeks later, AmEx called and they said they knew it wasn’t me because someone charged motorcycle parts. So that’s me – somewhere between Avon and motorcycle parts.
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This week was my birthday. And as usual, I got tons of texts, Facebook messages and a few phone calls, which is all great. People I hadn’t heard from all year, including past neighbors, reach out, who I enjoyed hearing from.
Our condo building text blew up. Our building prez doesn’t like frivolous texts, he feels the text string is for important things, like if the elevator is stuck or something. But they are texts, they aren’t important messages for posterity so who cares if someone sends a frivolous text, aside from the non-stop beeping when all the texts come in.
I don’t think many people save texts, they get rid of them eventually to make room on their phones, but to tell you the truth, I think I have ever text I ever received over the years. I’m a packrat when it comes to that.
But in those birthday texts, on my birthday itself, were requests from charities, car dealerships, restaurants, and other pests. Is this a new thing – on your birthday, all these requests for money and sales come out of the woodwork? I like the Starbucks free drink reminder, I did forget to use it, but at my local Starbucks they know me, so when I show up a week or so later and say I never received my free Starbucks drink, they just give it to me.
But the other texts I don’t remember happening in the past before. I guess when I give to a charity or something, they take my birthday down, so they can hit me up for more money on MY DAY! I blocked those numbers.
I gave a donation recently to a political organization and they kept texting and emailing me, but not on my birthday strangely enough. I guess it’s because I blocked the emails and texts after receiving the requests for more money so many times after my first donation. They didn’t even wait, they started asking for more right away.
Anyway, I just thought it was curious that all those requests for money and notices of sales, etc were coming in via text, which I found intrusive, especially on MY DAY!
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As I was cleaning out my old room last weekend I found some old photos of me that I needed when I was applying for a job as a flight attendant. I think it was for Eastern Airlines. I was 18 or 19. They were images of me in a tan suit.
I remember that time. I went to the airport, met in a private classroom with many others and we had some sort of class and lecture. I never did get the job, thank god, and I think I know one reason.
We had a questionnaire, some sort of psychological thing and I was too honest on it. One question asked, “If you had the opportunity to be at a party meeting new people or staying home and reading a book, which would you choose?” I chose the book. Which of course is the total opposite of a flight attendant job. But that was the truth.
I’m still not sure why I wanted to be a flight attendant. Maybe I wanted to travel the world.
I a friend, also named Tom, who was a flight attendant. He traveled to exotic places all the time – mostly the far east. He was a runner, and he would tell me, “I ran on the Great Wall today” or “I jogged through Tokyo yesterday.” Things like that.
But it was a lot of work and travel. He lived in Miami but was based in Hawaii, so before he even set out on his job/journeys he had to travel thousands of miles to just get to work. He also didn’t make a lot of money. I would complain about things like, “I spent almost $35 for lunch today!” And he would say, “I don’t even make $35 a day.”
I am glad I never got the flight attendant job. Who knows where I would be now. But it was nice seeing those old photos of me, it brought back so many memories of my late teens.
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tomversation.com 